


Stained White

by bloody_gavin



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Bad Parenting, Blasphemy, Child Abuse, Comfort, Cults, Fanmade Last Names, Gen, Gore, Hospitals, Manipulation, Mental Health Issues, Nightmares, No Gays until Intermission 4/Chapter 9, Poisoning, Religion, Swearing, Trigger words, graphic descriptions of pain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-08 12:09:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11646273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloody_gavin/pseuds/bloody_gavin
Summary: A fic where Daniel's childhood is almost as messed up as he is.





	1. A Sense of Failure

**Author's Note:**

> [[ no longer being written, i apologize, enjoy what's there already though! ]]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Therapist is officially done with Daniel's shit

_"Alright, I'm almost at my wit's end here, Daniel. Please, won't you tell us how exactly you came to have this...fear of impurity that we've seen in your stay here?"_  
  
The therapist at the chair had seemed to be growing more grey hairs the more he talked to the cultist in the hospital bed. He looked down at his notes, seeing assorted scribbles Daniel did to symbolize his vague thoughts. That, or it was just nonsense to throw him off. Daniel scoffed at the other, his smile slightly straining as he shivered, a static-like sensation being released throughout his body in a way that just made it more difficult to keep his smile wide. "As If I'd tell you. Your status doesn't deserve to even hear about the Ancient Ones' prophet. " The therapist sighed, putting his hand on his clipboard and attempting to keep his cool instead of breaking the wooden platform out of anger. Daniel had been saying the same shit about being a Prophet for the last seven days, and it was getting old. But to pretend like it was new information, the Therapist wrote something down, and putting a note about how this might show just how mentally fucked this cultist was.  
  
"Listen, Daniel. We're only trying to help you. You've been denying our help for seven fucking days now, and we're down to the point where we have no choice but to stop trying to dig up more evidence from you that could help you plead insanity in your trial." The grey-haired therapist sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked through the notes, or...what little notes he had. Daniel only grinned at him with wild eyes, as if he was actually happy that he wasn't going to be able to properly plead insanity. The worker sighed, waving the other goodbye as he left the cultist's hospital room, the sound of the door squeaking shut was followed only by a beep of the security lock, and after a while, the sounds of the therapist's footsteps down the hall.  
  
Nobody had any idea with this guy. They didn't get it. What was it? What hurt him? What made this man such a maniac to the point where he almost recreated the Jonestown Massacre? With what the doctors had, it could've been almost anything. Illness, Abuse, Living Conditions that were not suited to house a human being, Medical Malpractice, Poorly made medicine, maybe even a mixture of two or three of those things. It all could be a factor, for all they knew.  
  
It all lead up to one, same question having plagued everyone so far involving the case of Daniel Acies. The therapists, the lawyers, the doctors, the nurses. All of them had the same question, out of pity, out of worry, and out of spite.  
  
_What caused this?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[ These are quite small because they're meant to be sort of like intermissions between large chapters of flashbacks, SO it's rather short. My apologies. ]]


	2. Violin Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel's violin teacher gives him reprimand for a mistake.

** 7:02PM, The Acies Household, September 3rd, 2000. **   


* * *

  
The clamor of conversation echoed in the house, women and men in their sunday best causing the noise as they spoke among themselves in the living space. Almost everyone was in that room that connected to the kitchen and the patio, Mr. and Ms.Acies were there of course, along with most of the church’s congregation and their children. However, one face seemed to be missing from the group- the young Daniel Acies, who had finished playing his fiddle for the crowd only minutes ago, had disappeared from the room without words, and nobody truly seemed to notice, distracted by their own conversations.   
  
The blonde was in fact not anywhere near the living space. He was in a room that was as empty as a bedroom could be. Besides the very small closet near a corner, there was only a twin-sized bed, decorated with a clean white bedspread, a white blanket with a giant yellow cross in the middle, and a single white-covered pillow. In thought, it was nice, it was clean, it was pure. But at this point, Daniel thought that the room was in the worst state imaginable. It wasn’t too clear, but he swore he could hear his hiccups and wheezes being echoed in the empty room. And lord, he did not want to have anyone hear him, especially not now.   
  
His breathing hitched slightly as he heard the dark sound of the slam of a door close by. Daniel tried his best to quietly shuffle deeper into the small closet, hiding himself within the white clothing that filled his wardrobe. A slight clicking sound came from the hangers moving to accompany the new placement of the young one’s body. He stiffened up at this, knowing that if anyone was out there, they could’ve heard that. And as if his thoughts were being listened to by some kind of pain deity, He heard a loud female voice; and footsteps towards his location. “Daniel Acies! You are not to hide from Camryn Cambella when she calls for you! Come out at once!”   
  
Daniel felt himself exhale in 3 cut up huffs, trying his best to stop crying. Ms.Cambella didn’t like it when he cried. Or when he got angry, or when he got happy. Ms.Cambella didn’t like Daniel showing any emotions. He was told that emotions weren’t what mattered in music, it was just based on how good the instrument sounded. When the blonde child stopped his crying, he tried his best to get up from where he was in the closet and walk out into his room, seeing Ms.Cambella looking at him with angry eyes, tapping her foot on the carpet and crossing her arms, her overly large purse seeming to have slid down a little from her shoulder.   
  
Daniel knew that trying to stall for time would only make his anxiety grow, and then he’d start crying again...he slightly pursed his lips before almost blurting out the words of apology towards his music teacher. “I’m sorry, Ms.Cambella, I-” Before he could even finish the apology, the white haired woman spoke over him, her voice clearly showing her anger, and also showing that she was slowly losing her patience with Daniel. “Daniel, I’ve told you once, I’ve told you time and time again. We’ve been Practicing for the entire Summer Semester and you’re still missing notes that we’ve worked on!” The young boy sighed. He had been missing those same notes for all that time. He tried his best to fix them when he could, but he couldn’t help but have trouble with playing sharp notes on the Violin. Every time he got it right, It’d just go back to being the wrong note in the next practice.   
  
“Miss, I know It’s jus-” As Daniel tried to speak for himself again, he was cut off once more. This time is wasn’t by words, but with a harsh sting hitting his cheek. He took a breath, again trying not to cry. He had gone through it so many times, he really needed to man up and take it...but before he could think about how well he could take a slap to the face, The teacher continued to speak towards him. “Daniel, Do not speak back to me. You know what happens when you mess up a performance under my name, yes?” As she said this, Cambella reached into her purse for something, and the small boy in front of her moved back instinctively, slamming his hand onto his own clothed arm and wincing on impact.   
  
“Now Daniel, you’re never going to grow up right if you never get punished for doing bad. Now lift up your sleeve.” The light colored woman then pulled out what Daniel learned to fear. A small whip she carried around almost everywhere. While Daniel couldn’t seem to learn the right notes to play, he did learn that if he refused to do what Ms.Cambella said, He’d be punished twice as bad. As Daniel’s while shirt sleeve was lifted up, a series of brownish red marks were seen on his arm, mostly on his forearm than anywhere else. The scabs were everywhere on the small boy’s arm as he held it out to the teacher that had caused the scabs to appear in the first place.   
  
And just as he did such, he heard the noise. The crack kind of sound that made him fall to the ground, closing his eyes tightly as he felt the sting in his arm, he braced for another impact, feeling how it made the already opened skin sting in pain. And it only stung more as he felt another set of injuries open up- another harsh noise flickering through the silence of the room. Daniel was scared to open his eyes again- worried to get another just for talking back, but instead, he heard the sound of footsteps walking away, and shuffling of someone putting something away.   
  
The blonde peeked at the injury he had gotten, making a soft noise of sniffling as he saw the blood slowly pour into one of the wounds meant to overflow, deep enough for him to see some of the inside of his skin, but not enough to get to muscle. All he knew though, was that he was going to live. He always had. Even his mom told him that this was normal. That he’d be okay. That he wasn’t going to die. He didn’t want to bother anyone...he wasn’t worth the trouble anyways. So he just curled up where he already was, trying his best to catch the dripping blood in one thing or another so that he didn’t stain the carpet. After all, the pristine nature of the house was more important than he could ever be. And He knew, that was just the normal way the world works.   
  
Downstairs, the clamor of conversation kept going on, not seeming to be paused by the sound of pain from upstairs. Good. Daniel found himself getting up, his legs somehow feeling shaky even when they had not been injured in the slightest. But he didn’t have time to think about his legs, only use them to rush across his room, focused on the red on his arm, and trying to keep that red fluid on his arm and nowhere else. That is, until he slammed open the door to the bathroom and shoved his bleeding arm into the room, letting it drip on the now tile floor ever so slightly.   
  
He tried to keep his breathing down, shaking as he looked behind him. He didn’t see any red on the carpet, so he thought he was safe. Getting blood out of the carpet was impossible! He’d tried it before and just made it worse, he didn’t know how that was possible, but it did, and then he was punished for it. At least he knew that he could clean up the tile floor with a wet-wipe, and if he scrubbed hard enough it wouldn't even look like he did anything wrong! But...he couldn't scrub it until he got up on the counter to get the bandages, or else more blood would get on the tiles.   
  
The small boy tried his best to grip onto the skin's counter, climbing up onto the limestone so that he could reach the top shelf of the cabinet properly. His mother always put them there, since she thought Daniel was wasting them on stupid things, like patching up stuffed animals. He only used a bandage for Mr.Cottonball once, and that was because he was bleeding! As he remembered Mr.Cottonball's tragic injury, he started to patch up his own injury, kicking his legs a bit as he sat on the limestone counter, softly singing a tune as he poorly wrapped his cuts up with bandages.  
  
_"There's a place I know that's grand to see, A place where you can really breathe, where we can go to sing and play, and practice music everyday..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[ This one wasn't....as bad I guess ]]


	3. Intermission 1; Flash Card Lock Picking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel has some internal troubles as he picks the lock to his hospital room.

The mental health floor of the hospital was always the most quiet at this time of day. Not only was the floor a bit higher than the rumble of hustle and bustle from hospital staff in the Emergency Response rooms in the hospital, but more times than not, the people on this floor were there due to attempting to end their lives, and slept to cope with their failure and to cope with will being in the world of the living.   
  
Daniel, on the other hand, was causing a good bit of noise as he tried to open the door leading to the hallways. He had been trying to pick the lock on the door with a marker and a plastic flash cards he found in the drawer of the room. He supposed they would be for younger or artistic patients. He knew many things, but in that moment, one of those things he knew was significantly more important than anything else. He knew he had to escape the hospital before Friday hit.   
  
He heard it from the doctors, saying that he’d be released on friday from the hospital, only to be placed into the hands of the police. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, most would call it. And anyone who looked at Daniel for a minute could tell that prison wouldn’t treat him nicely. And he had somewhere to be once he got out of the hospital...he just hadn’t told anybody about it. The only two people that visited him in the first few days of his stay were, of course Jen, staying a while so she and Daniel could blabber about how much this and that celebrity needed to do this and that to look perfect or be pure.   
  
But, the other person. David. David visited him, and he was shocked. He gave him some carnations to put on his side table, and he read a book that was just...about a bunch of species of birds. It was dorky, and Daniel had passed out while hearing the narration, Which showed how boring the book was. But still, David had come to see him. Even after what he did. And he needed to see him again. So, the Cultist had to escape, no matter how many additional crimes he had to commit.    



	4. Sci-Fi Novels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel's parents don't like Sci-Fi novels, and Daniel knows this very well at this point.

**8:17PM, The Acies Household, January 19th, 2008.  **

 

“Daniel. No books at the table.” The boy looked up from his novel, confusion on his face, quickly squinting towards his father on the other side of the dinner table. Just as he felt his face scrunch up, his vision being more like a badly-measured theatre screen, a dull pain in the back of his head stopped all proper workings in his mind for a moment. He was unable to focus on anything except the sense of how the pain spread out in a ribble and ended with a sting. Daniel put down his novel and up towards where the pain had come from. “Daniel, Don’t sass your father.” The feminine voice that said this moved to one side of the table, sitting down before a well cleaned hand with manicured fingernails snatched the book away from the blonde child. Daniel sighed as his copy of “The Galactic Confederacy Attacks” by Z.E Mugen was placed just out of arm’s reach.   
  
“S-Sorry mom.” The boy sighed out, realizing just in that moment how him squinting probably would look more like glaring. He’d been doing that a lot for a while, but his parents took him to the pastor, and he said that there was nothing wrong with his eyes. So he supposed he had to take his word for it. The blonde looked over to his book with a sad tilt of his eyebrows.  The book itself wasn’t too special, the original cover was coated in white paint, and for some reason, something on the First page was blanked out with White-out. Daniel never questioned it, seeing as it was probably for his own good. And besides, no matter how bland the outside looked, the inside had Daniel’s favorite story. It took him into space with it’s words, and showed him things he’d never think would be possible to see in real life.   
  
His parents didn’t like the book, however. They took a look at it once, and called it Blasphemous. They tried to throw the book out for good a few times, but Daniel would grab it out of the wastebin in the dead hours of the night so he could still read it. All of his books had white covers, so it wasn’t easy to notice that he had snuck the novel back in at first. But once more, Daniel’s parents would look at the book, and notice that it was the Sci-Fi novel. They’d punish Daniel for such a thing, obviously. And if they had a bill simply of how many bandages they bought monthly, that’d be proof enough. They’d forget to throw it away again. But that’d only be another day of leeway for the blonde to read a few more chapters. Then they’d throw it away, and the cycle continued...He was almost done with the book, onto chapter 45 out of 47. So it would probably end once he finished it today!   
  
His internal tirade of the book was brought to a sudden halt as the woman in the room got up to take the book off of the table. Daniel seemed to look more upset. He knew what was going to happen. And He was just about to finish the book, too. He watched as his mother left the room to go dump the book in the garbage, her blonde and red hair bouncing slightly as she walked. Daniel wanted to call out and mention how she needed to bleach and dye her hair again...but that would be seen as rude. He tried to distract himself by looking at his plate on the table, and at the small pieces of beef on his plate. He felt a bit unnerved as he remembered the last time he ate meat. He visited Jen’s house and her family had eggs and bacon. But Daniel’s family found out and punished him for having pork. 

It wasn’t too much to eat, but after that quick memory, Daniel felt that he wasn’t hungry anymore. He felt as if he couldn’t even force himself to have the appetite for it. So he just poked and prodded at the meat with a fork and thought about how he could excuse himself. He made a soft sound that sounded a bit like he was in pain. He noticed his father’s head moving up from his plate and towards the small boy on the other side of the table. Daniel felt something moving in his throat...like a worm with rocks in it, that made him unable to speak. Thankfully, or maybe not so much, Daniel’s father spoke for him.    
  
“Daniel, you will eat. I will not let that beef go to waste just because a disrespectful, shame of a congregation member’s son doesn’t feel like he wants to eat, because of a Blasphemous, Sin-causing, Space novel.” Daniel swallowed down a bit of saliva that had built up in his mouth as he heard his religious father’s rant come to an end. The boy looked up to see that his father’s face had turned from carrying a dark frown, to a very...unnerving smile spreading across his face. Almost like he was trying to act nice.    
_   
“Plus, I made this with your Mother! Perhaps, you can respect your parents for one day, Daniel?” _


End file.
